Stop, passenger! my story’s brief,
     And truth I shall relate, man;
     I tell nae common tale o’ grief,
     For Matthew was a great man.

     If thou uncommon merit hast,
     Yet spurn’d at Fortune’s door, man;
     A look of pity hither cast,
     For Matthew was a poor man.

     If thou a noble sodger art,
     That passest by this grave, man;
     There moulders here a gallant heart,
     For Matthew was a brave man.

     If thou on men, their works and ways,
     Canst throw uncommon light, man;
     Here lies wha weel had won thy praise,
     For Matthew was a bright man.

     If thou, at Friendship’s sacred ca’,
     Wad life itself resign, man: 
     Thy sympathetic tear maun fa’,
     For Matthew was a kind man.

     If thou art staunch, without a stain,
     Like the unchanging blue, man;
     This was a kinsman o’ thy ain,
     For Matthew was a true man.

     If thou hast wit, and fun, and fire,
     And ne’er guid wine did fear, man;
     This was thy billie, dam, and sire,
     For Matthew was a queer man.

     If ony whiggish, whingin’ sot,
     To blame poor Matthew dare, man;
     May dool and sorrow be his lot,
     For Matthew was a rare man.

     But now, his radiant course is run,
     For Matthew’s was a bright one! 
     His soul was like the glorious sun,
     A matchless, Heavenly light, man.

Verses On Captain Grose

     Written on an Envelope, enclosing a Letter to Him.

     Ken ye aught o’ Captain Grose?—­Igo, and ago,
     If he’s amang his friends or foes?—­Iram, coram, dago.

     Is he to Abra’m’s bosom gane?—­Igo, and ago,
     Or haudin Sarah by the wame?—­Iram, coram dago.

     Is he south or is he north?—­Igo, and ago,
     Or drowned in the river Forth?—­Iram, coram dago.

     Is he slain by Hielan’ bodies?—­Igo, and ago,
     And eaten like a wether haggis?—­Iram, coram, dago.

     Where’er he be, the Lord be near him!—­Igo, and ago,
     As for the deil, he daur na steer him.—­Iram, coram, dago.

     But please transmit th’ enclosed letter,—­Igo, and ago,
     Which will oblige your humble debtor.—­Iram, coram, dago.

     So may ye hae auld stanes in store,—­Igo, and ago,
     The very stanes that Adam bore.—­Iram, coram, dago,

     So may ye get in glad possession,—­Igo, and ago,
     The coins o’ Satan’s coronation!—­Iram coram dago.

Tam O’ Shanter

     A Tale.

     “Of Brownyis and of Bogillis full is this Buke.”

     Gawin Douglas.